All Poems
/ page 1943 of 3210 /Hem And Haw
© Bliss William Carman
Hem and Haw were the sons of sin,
Created to shally and shirk;
Hem lay 'round and Haw looked on
While God did all the work.
Practicing Time
© Edgar Albert Guest
Always whenever I want to play
I've got to practice an hour a day,
Psalm 10
© Isaac Watts
Why doth the Lord stand off so far?
And why conceal his face,
When great calamities appear,
And times of deep distress?
The Child World
© Edgar Albert Guest
The child world is a wondrous world,
For there the flags of hate are furled,
Voyage of the Jettie
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A shallow stream, from fountains
Deep in the Sandwich mountains,
Ran lake ward Bearcamp River;
And, between its flood-torn shores,
Sped by sail or urged by oars
No keel had vexed it ever.
"Formerly A Slave"
© Herman Melville
The sufferance of her race is shown,
And retrospect of life,
Which now too late deliverance dawns upon;
Yet is she not at strife.
Yes, It Was The Mountain Echo
© William Wordsworth
YES, it was the mountain Echo,
Solitary, clear, profound,
Answering to the shouting Cuckoo,
Giving to her sound for sound!
Reality
© Emma Lazarus
These things alone endure;
"They are the solid facts," that we may grasp,
Leading us on and upward if we clasp
And hold them firm and sure.
Satisfied With Life
© Edgar Albert Guest
I have known the green trees and the skies overhead
And the blossoms of spring and the fragrance they shed;
I have known the blue sea, and the mountains afar
And the song of the pines and the light of a star;
And should I pass now, I could say with a smile
That my pilgrimage here has been well worth my while.
Stable by Claudia Emerson Andrews: American Life in Poetry #26 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
Descriptive poetry depends for its effects in part upon the vividness of details. Here the Virginia poet, Claudia Emerson, describes the type of old building all of us have seen but may not have stopped to look at carefully. And thoughtfully.
Stable
Footsteps in the Street
© Robert Fuller Murray
Oh, will the footsteps never be done?
The insolent feet
Thronging the street,
Forsaken now of the only one.
Love Nursed By Solitude. By W. I. Thomson, Edinburgh
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
AY, surely it is here that Love should come,
And find, (if he may find on earth), a home;
Here cast off all the sorrow and the shame
That cling like shadows to his very name.
Yvonne of Brittany
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
In your mother's apple-orchard,
Just a year ago, last spring:
Custer: Book Third
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Were every red man slaughtered in a day,
Still would that sacrifice but poorly pay
For one insulted woman captive's woes.
Sonnet LXXXIII. The Sea View
© Charlotte Turner Smith
THE upland shepherd, as reclined he lies
On the soft turf that clothes the mountain brow,
Marks the bright sea-line mingling with the skies;
Or from his course celestial, sinking slow,
Granite And Cypress
© Robinson Jeffers
White-maned, wide-throated, the heavy-shouldered children of
the wind leap at the sea-cliff.
Faint Fall the Gentle Voice of Prayer
© Henry Timrod
Faint falls the gentle voice of prayer,
In the wild sounds that fill the air,
Yet, Lord, we know that voice is heard,
Not less than if Thy throne it stirred.
Spartan Mothers
© Alfred Austin
``One more embrace! Then, o'er the main,
And nobly play the soldier's part!''
The Offering
© Edith Nesbit
What will you give me for this heart of mine,
No heart of gold, and yet my dearest treasure?
It has its graces, it can ache and pine,